Jack and the Jacuzzi
by pirategirl1963
Summary: A Jack-You one-shot. The end is left to your imagination.


Sheila opened her eyes and took in the clear blue sky above her. The sun was shining, and a soft wind was blowing. The only sound that could be heard was the rustling of the palm fronds on the trees in the backyard. Across the way was the fountain with a cavorting dolphin figurine. Roses surrounded the fountain in brilliant shades of red, yellow and peach. The colors were intense, but they were the only things around that were tense. She, in contrast, was completely relaxed. Warmed by the still waters of the Jacuzzi, her limbs floated near the surface in complete relaxation.  
  
She had kept the jets off, preferring the calming influence generated by the warmth. Only the ozone unit was on. The bubbles produced were miniscule, and did not disturb the calm of the water. The warm water, however, was in direct contrast to the coolness of the California winter air. Temperate in comparison to most other climates, it was still a bit chilly for hot-house-blooded Southern Californians like herself. She let her head lean back, and closed her eyes as she continued to relax, letting the waters soothe and relax away her recent trip to the gym. The water was scented with the gentle aroma of chamomile. Another one of the many accessories for Jacuzzi owners. One didn't need to subject oneself to the smell of the chemicals that made the water consistently safe to bathe in. Little bottles of "Spa Perfume" were the latest trend for the Jacuzzi set.  
  
The visits to the gym were providing excellent health benefits for her body, but never-the-less, her muscles ached afterwards. The Jacuzzi had paid for itself in terms of physical therapy. And combined with aroma therapy, the combination was heavenly.  
  
The only thing missing was a companion to enjoy the experience with her. Someone with sun-kissed skin, warm chocolate-brown eyes, strong hands, and a sharp wit. If only... "If you wanted to go swimming, love, the ocean is just a short walk away. This thing looks more like a bathtub, and you don't look in need of one of those."  
  
Without opening her eyes, Sheila smiled at the sound of the familiar voice. The odor, however, wasn't familiar. And it wasn't pleasant.  
  
"You're a long way from home, mate" she said. She opened her eyes, and turned her head to see the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow leaning indolently against the side of the hot tub. He was wearing his weathered pants, frayed shirt, vest, and the famous coat. And oh yes, the hat. Mustn't forget the hat. Head band, hair-bone, and impish grin were firmly in place. The sun glinted off one of his gold teeth. She smiled at him.  
  
"What are you doing here, anyway?" She asked him. He shrugged casually.  
  
"Don't look at me, mate. This isn't my doing." He protested. Sheila thought about that. Then she thought about the likelihood of his appearing in this century. In this world for that matter. Jack didn't exist in history. At least, none that had ever been written. Or did he? Even if he had, time travel isn't possible. She surmised that it must be her imagination. Or a hallucination. Was she hallucinating. But why? That didn't make sense. She wasn't ill, on drugs, or overly stressed. She felt the muscles in her neck tighten. All the relaxation was seeping away with these thoughts. She didn't want to think. Time in the Jacuzzi was supposed to be thought free. She pushed the disturbing thoughts determinedly from her mind. I'm just going to go with it, she thought. Hallucination, overactive imagination, freakish reality, or whatever. Just relax and enjoy, she told herself.  
  
"Well, Jack, as long as you're here, you might as well start enjoying some of the benefits of my existence." Sheila said to him. A gleam came into his eye. Clearly his mind jumped to the less savory of the available pleasantries. Sheila rolled her eyes at him.  
  
"Don't get any ideas, Jack" She said frostily.  
  
"It's "Captain", love. Please remember that". He returned, just as coolly.  
  
"Captain is a title of respect. Respect must be earned. You won't get that respect from me until you earn it. Start by getting your mind out of the gutter." At this he looked affronted.  
  
"I've seen plenty of gutters in my time, love. This isn't a gutter." He said, indicating the house, and grounds he surveyed.  
  
"No kidding?" she replied "Then stop leering at me as if I was a Tortuga hussy." She demanded.  
  
"Are you not?" He asked, looking puzzled. "Then how is it that you show off so much of your, er, refinements?" He said, looking pointedly at her bare limbs and substantial cleavage enhanced by the swim suit she wore. She followed his gaze, and understood.  
  
"Oh, Sparrow, you have a few centuries to catch up on." She told him. "I'm wearing what's called a Swimsuit. And this", she said indicating the water she sat in, "Is a Jacuzzi. It's a pool of water that is heated, and when the correct buttons are pressed, provides strong jets that massage away your aches and pains." Jack looked mildly interested, but clearly considered the information with trepidation.  
  
"Looks like a big soup pot to me. That, or an over-sized bath tub. Never much cared for them, meself." He told her.  
  
"I wouldn't have guessed." She replied sardonically, but without bite.  
  
"We also have things called swimming pools." she continued "They're larger, and the water isn't warm, but it is clean,"  
  
"Now why would anyone want to get into one of those things?" He asked. His facial expression spoke volumes. Clearly he was in the presence of a mad woman.  
  
"Because it's fun." She answered. "It feels good". His disbelief was evident in his charcoal-lined eyes. She found herself caught up in those deep brown eyes. He looked exactly as she remembered. Dreaded up hair, trinkets attached, soft moustache... at least it looked soft. She found herself wondering about how soft it might be. Her attitude softened a bit.  
  
"Well, Sparrow, I suppose you'll just have to give it a try. You've been swimming before..." she said  
  
"Only when absolutely necessary. Not my favorite thing to do, if you get my meaning" he said suggestively. Shelia regarded him with impatience.  
  
"Sparrow, now that you've gotten your ship back, you seem to have a one- track mind." He grinned at that, and she found her patience wearing thin. "Are you going to try this, or not?" She asked, challengingly.  
  
He looked at the water with distaste. Then looked at her. Carnal desires warred with the abhorrent idea of getting into the water. Desire won out, and he made his way to the steps. He removed his sword, scabbard, hat, coat, belt and boots as she watched. He made to climb in. The man really did need a bath. She could see grime on his neck. They just didn't emphasize adequate personal hygiene where he came from. It would take days to get the chemical balance of the water corrected once he was done in here.  
  
"Oh no, Sparrow, not in all that. This hot tub couldn't handle all of that... dirt. Down to your skivvies, love" she mocked his tone. He started at her demand. She stood up in the tub, and moved to the center where she could look him in the eye. His eyes locked with hers. Water dripped from her swimsuit, making soft "plinking" noises as the drops hit the water in the tub. If Sparrow was shocked at the sight of what amounted to a near- naked woman standing before him, he didn't show it. For a moment, they both remained this way; standing face to face, immobile, starring, warring with their eyes. Then he conceded.  
  
"Very well, love." He acquiesced. His body swayed as he unwound the white and red striped sash he wore around his waist. She could hear him muttering "what else is a tub for, then, but to wash up". Then he unbuttoned the cuff of his left sleeve, and slipped the shirt over his head. His chest was slight, but well toned. She could see the two scars from pistol shots that he had evidently survived. As he unbuttoned the front fly of his pants, she pondered the scars on the inside of his left arm. Those didn't look like anything she'd ever seen before. What could have caused those, she wondered. She didn't notice that the man was now totally naked and stepping into the pool until he uttered a short howl. Her jaw dropped. Before she could utter a word, Sparrow let out a howl.  
  
"Blast! Woman, what are you trying to do? Cook me? This water is boiling hot!" he exclaimed. Stunned at his nudity, she didn't answer right away. She did, however, close her eyes.  
  
"Um, well, yes Sparrow, it is hot. Not boiling, but yes, about 100 degrees Fahrenheit would seem rather hot to you. Now stop whining, and set yourself down. Take your time. Ease in." She told him, then took the opportunity to turn around so she wouldn't stare at his naked bits dangling about. "Believe me, you'll get used to it in a moment.". She headed back to her corner chaise seat.  
  
He slowly worked his way into the water. Then, when he was convinced that he would not boil to death, he sat. Sheila heard him moving about.  
  
"So," she said, recovering some of her composure, "You don't wear skivvies, then" It was more of a statement than a question.  
  
A look of confusion crossed face. "I rather thought that skivvies was your word for "In the altogether"" He replied, the corner of his mouth lifting into an amused grin at her discomfit. Sheila felt a small, warning tingle in the area of her midsection. She'd always loved that particular grin. She turned to face him. Thankfully, he had seated himself in the opposite corner, and she was no longer subjected to the "bits."  
  
"No," she replied caustically, "I rather thought you wore something underneath those badly worn britches of yours. Isn't it rather uncomfortable? I mean, when you get wet, doesn't the clothing stick to the, er..." She stopped herself abruptly. "Never mind."  
  
"What? What else would I wear? Another pair of pants? I'm lucky I have the one pair!" He was genuinely puzzled by her question. Clearly, underwear was a concept from a later century. He moved his hands in the water, noting the bubbles coming from the ozone equalizer. Then he sniffed the water, and grimaced.  
  
"Smells like soap to me. Are you sure this isn't just a ridiculously big bathtub?" He asked. She laughed at his words.  
  
"No, it isn't. And it's not meant to be, either. However, now that you mention it..." she reached over and grabbed a small hand towel on the edge of the hot tub. She made her way to wear he was seated. "Now that you mention it," she repeated "You could do with a bit of cleaning up. Oh don't worry, I won't use soap." She added when he made to jump out of the water. She wet the towel, and drew it along his shoulders and arms, wiping away some of the dirt. It wasn't grime, exactly. Cowboys might have called it road dust. Stuff that penetrated clothing, and stuck to the sweat of the body. It came off rather easily. Sparrow grinned at her.  
  
"Can't keep yer hands off me, can you love?" He said with a insouciant grin. Sheila pursed her lips, and then tossed the wet towel in his face.  
  
"You're not exactly prince charming, are you Sparrow? And in case you hadn't noticed, my hands did not, in fact, touch you at all." With that she moved to back the opposite corner of the Jacuzzi. The grin slid off Jack's face at her reply. She leaned back and closed her eyes, effectively shutting him out. Sparrow looked around, obviously ill at ease.  
  
"So, is this all, then?" He asked. Sheila opened one eye and looked at him. He wasn't impressed with the soothing nature of the water.  
  
"No. I just thought I'd ease you into the experience slowly. After all, this is a little advanced for you." With that, she reached over to the control panel and pressed one of the buttons. The jets roared to life, shooting out strong currents of hot water. Jack howled and jumped up in alarm.  
  
"It's a sea monster!" He exclaimed as frothy water began to swirl on the surface, which brought laughter to Sheila's lips. He glared at her, and reached for his pistol, belatedly realizing that he'd had to remove it before getting into the water.  
  
"I told you, the jets shoot out water, and they massage your muscles. You know what a massage is, right? Okay then, all you have to do is lean back and enjoy it." She giggled. Jack's expression abruptly changed at her laughter.  
  
"Well, that is an excellent trick. But now," He said as he advanced upon her, "You are trapped in your little corner."  
  
"Um, Sparrow, I wouldn't try anything if I were you" Sheila warned him. He didn't so much as twitch, or alter his slow and steady stalk through the water.  
  
"Is that supposed to make me afraid? Silly girl." He growled softly, continuing his predatory crawl towards her. Soon he was upon her, and he slithered up her prone body without touching her. All she felt was a cushion of water between them.  
  
"You are rather exposed, Sparrow. One sharp tug on the right appendage, and I'd have you on your knees." She threatened smoothly. His mouth was a hair's breath away from hers. She did her best not to cower.  
  
"Oh, love, haven't you noticed? I'm already on my knees, right here in front of you." He said silkily. Sheila's breath caught in her throat. She could feel a tickle from the soft hairs of his moustache, but his lips never touched hers. Instead, he turned his head, and placed a soft kiss on her shoulder, and then moved to softly nuzzle her neck. Sheila's heart began to race, and her suddenly elevated temperature had nothing to do with the 100 degree water. A small gasp escaped her lips. She tried to control her heart rate as he slowly drew his lips from her neck in a downward trajectory. Her hands instinctively moved to his smooth chest. She had planned to push him away. Really, she had. But the combination of relaxing water, and dashing male companion got the better of her.  
  
"Captain!" she exclaimed sharply. He drew back instantly.  
  
"Hmmmm?" He replied quickly, his face the picture of Pirate innocence. Just as quickly, he realized that she had called him Captain".  
  
Her hand trailed up his arm slowly, her fingers tangling themselves in the strands of beads woven in his tresses. Her eyes caught his.  
  
"Perhaps a Jacuzzi isn't the best place to introduce you to the benefits of the 21st century after all." She conceded softly. He cocked his head at this.  
  
"How would you like to see this century's version of a captain's bunk?" She asked cryptically.  
  
Jack's face split into a devilish grin. Perhaps he was Prince charming after all, he thought. Whoever that poor blighter was.  
  
"Aye, that sounds more like it." He smiled down at her. "But darling," he added, "There's one thing about this "century" I'd really like to know." He admitted.  
  
She smiled up at him, convinced she had won him over to her way of thinking.  
  
"What's that, Captain?"  
  
"Love," he began, "Where's the rum gone?" 


End file.
